


Apple

by RadiantBeam



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-18 05:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21505594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadiantBeam/pseuds/RadiantBeam
Summary: “You… got us all apples. We’re in the mountains. Buried in snow. How did you get apples?”orBetween sealing the Breach and the fall of Haven, Laurel Cadash brings Josephine an unexpected treat.
Relationships: Female Cadash/Josephine Montilyet, Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	Apple

**Author's Note:**

> Much like Breathless, this was written ages ago for the LI one word prompt on the Dragon Age OC server. And much like female Aeducan/Leliana, this ship needs way more love than it gets.

Mistress Cadash was shaping up to be more of a contradiction than Josephine had expected.

That she had ultimately favored the templars hadn’t shocked the diplomat, even if she’d gotten a quiet chuckle out of Leliana’s grumbling at the decision. The dwarf was certainly dedicated to helping their cause—mostly, it seemed, out of a desire to prove her worth and then go _home_ —but she also had a self-preservation instinct, and that she had favored the option that _didn’t_ pump more magic into the already unstable mark on her hand wasn’t a shock. 

What _had_ been unexpected was her decision to ally with the templars. She had spoken only a little of what had transpired, but what she _had_ said made it clear that she genuinely believed in their desire to atone. Disbanding them into the Inquisition would have been the easier, quicker process, but apparently Laurel Cadash had a soft spot for second chances.

And then there had been… well.

_“How did someone so lovely_ **_and_ ** _selfless go into Orlesian politics, Lady Montilyet?”_

“Maker’s breath,” she sighed as she felt heat rushing back into her cheeks at the memory, setting her quill aside to rub her eyes. She should have been over this by now; it had only been _one_ sentence, spoken after several conversations. That it only resonated her at all was because Cadash had been… genuine. It hadn’t been some idle flattery to stroke her ego, or an attempt to woo her. The dwarf had said it, and from the small smile curving her lips and the warmth in her eyes, had _meant_ it entirely as it was intended.

This wouldn’t do, not at all. She had a job to do, and Cadash was… well. She enjoyed the woman’s company, she wouldn’t deny that. There was a sharp diplomatic mind, beneath the rumors and whispers of the Carta. Josephine even dared to think they might be becoming friends, despite--or perhaps because of--the circumstances. She wouldn’t risk all of that now because she was blushing like some school girl who had never been complimented before.

“Eyes up, Lady Montilyet!”

It took her a second to realize she _hadn’t_ imagined the Herald’s voice, and she immediately lowered her hand and reacted almost without thinking; her old bard training might not have been as intact as she liked to think it was at times, but it was at least good for _something_ as she managed to catch whatever the dwarf had tossed to her as she entered her excuse for an office. It wasn’t perfect--she fumbled her catch and it nearly slipped out of her hand--but she managed to keep her grip on the round object so it didn’t fall to her desk.

A single dark blonde eyebrow arched and Cadash grinned, leaning on her door frame. “My, my,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d be so quick about it. You’re full of surprises.”

“As are you,” Josephine replied, having to resist the urge to sigh. “Do you often announce your presence to others by throwing objects to them?”

“That was a first for me, actually. Thought you might want it, I tried to grab you a juicy one.”

At the description of the item, Josephine blinked and turned her hand around to finally actually _examine_ what she’d caught, and she stared for a moment. “... This is an apple,” she said at last. An especially round, deep red apple, in fact, and _Maker_ it had been too long if she was taking notice of that.

Cadash chuckled now, and looking at her the diplomat saw she had an apple of her own in her free hand; she lifted it to her mouth now and took a bite. “There’s a whole crate,” she said. “I thought everyone could use the treat, after all the work they’ve done. Don’t worry, I already made rounds to everyone I _know_ will be too busy to go to the tavern to pick one up.”

“You… got us all apples,” Josephine said, trying to wrap her mind around what she was being told. “We’re in the _mountains_. Buried in _snow_. How did you get apples?”

Cadash shrugged and took another bite. “You all have your merchants,” she hummed as she swallowed. “I have my smugglers. I sent word through the Carta chains here for some additional lyrium, and I may have _also_ included a note requesting a fresh crate for morale. Prophet came through. Good thing too,” it was a mutter, “bastard still owed me for the time I paid off one of his debts.”

“Dare I ask who Prophet is?”

She’d asked the question without thinking, but the dwarf’s face did that thing again--the same thing it had done when she’d asked about her background with the Carta. It went completely blank for a moment, the smaller woman studying her silently as she turned something over in her mind, before she spoke. “My cousin,” she said at last. “I was born a few days before my uncle’s son, and he thought it’d be funny since I was named Laurel.”

“Prophet’s Laurel,” Josephine murmured, and the dwarf nodded to confirm it. 

“Anyway,” she pushed off of the frame now, taking a third bite, “I wanted to bring you one, since I know you’re busy with everything. Made sure to grab one of the best, too, since you’re holding this whole operation together.”

Maker help her, that heat was coming back into her cheeks. She lowered her eyes, and couldn’t quite help the small smile that curved her lips. “You give me too much credit, Herald.”

“Laurel.”

She blinked, looking up. “Excuse me?”

“Laurel,” Cadash repeated. “You can call me by name, you know. I’m pretty sure we’re technically colleagues at this point, at least.”

Josephine giggled at that, and the traitorous warmth in her cheeks didn’t fade. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She was still smiling as the dwarven woman gave her a curtsy and a wink, then slipped out of her office. She pressed the apple to her lips for a moment, inhaling the scent of it, before taking a bite. Cadash hadn’t been lying, either; it _was_ a good apple.

The woman was, indeed, shaping up to be an interesting contradiction--one Josephine found she wanted to learn more about as time went on.


End file.
